Prince Eric: Part 2
by Crisis Rose
Summary: Eric starts his teenage years with the scars of the past still very much visible. Haunted by memories, the young Prince begins a journey to fix what has been hurt; but there are some scars, that just refuse to heal.
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N: Hello again! Please note that this story follows on from "Prince Eric" (as indicated by the title); so if you could take the time to read that one first then this is likely to make a lot more sense, thank you. For those of you who have already read that story then welcome back. I hope you enjoy this, and please review if you have time.)**

It had been eight years, and still he thought of them every day; haunted by some survivor's guilt he would sit out on the balcony, alone. The sound of the waves lapping against the shoreline below him would calm his racing mind as he watched the waters ebb and flow. After all these years the sea continued to fascinate the young Prince, even after the incident that had almost lead to him drowning when he was only four years old. Eric shuddered at the memory, for the events that followed that had stuck with him to this very day. Having lost his mother only two weeks before, Eric's father King David had been sentenced to death by King Vernon of Glowerhaven for the murder of one of Glowerhaven's Earls. Eric had been too young to go to the execution at the time, but even then he had blamed himself for his father's death. He didn't know why, but he felt entirely responsible and partially responsible for his mother's death too, although he had no reason to. As expected, it had taken him a long time to get over the loss, despite the fact that his father had been abusive and power hungry.

After that, Carlotta and Grimsby had become his main carers, and acted as his foster parents. But things hadn't gotten any easier after that.

After hearing of her husband's death, Lady Victoria had ordered that Grimsby, Carlotta and Eric left the Manor House; she blamed them for the Earl's untimely death. With the palace still in ruins, Grimsby had tried contacting the other Earl's and Duke's within the surrounding area in a desperate search to find somewhere the three of them could stay. However, the search proved pointless, for nobody was willing to give up three rooms; and after the reputation that King David had built of himself, people began growing wary of Eric, some thinking that he would grow to be like his father. Grimsby and Carlotta had shielded Eric from these rumours, for they knew that the last thing he needed was to be compared to his father.

Eventually, thanks to Edward's generosity, they had bought a small house on the edge of town as a temporary residence. They would stay there until the palace had been rebuilt and live in the Kingdom as regular citizens. The argument then began about whether or not they ought to send Eric to school; but, after only a few days at the local school, the answer became apparent. All the other children knew who Eric was, and who his father was. Of course, word of Tony's murder at King David's hands had spread like wildfire throughout the Kingdom and, as a result, Eric was now finding it very difficult to fit in.

Grimsby had decided that he would teach Eric himself, and prepare him as best he could for the upcoming role of King.

After almost two weeks of meetings, it had been decided that Eric would take the throne come his eighteenth birthday unless he, nearer the time, felt incapable of doing so. In which case, it would be delayed until Eric felt capable of challenging the role. But, in his heart, Eric knew that he'd never be ready, not really; and he fully intended to delay the coronation as long as he could get away with.

It had taken six years to rebuild the palace after the fire that had killed his mother, and so, until the age of ten, Eric had been living amongst the people of, what would become, his Kingdom. Over this time, people had grown quite fond of him, and eventually realised that the young Prince was nothing like is father before him had been. He and Carlotta would often make trips in to town and, in all honesty, Eric had preferred that life to living as royalty. The young Prince became very down-to earth, and on occasions, completely forgot that he was a Prince altogether. As he had gotten older, he would help Carlotta with chores and been allowed to go off into town and down to the beach by himself so long as he was back before sunset. Eric had spent the majority of that time on the beach but, as happy as he seemed, Carlotta knew that he often felt lonely. He didn't have any children his own age to play with, and Grimsby and Carlotta were often too busy to entertain him.

King David was the main reason for this. He had forced Eric to grow up too quickly, and as a result, he was never really going to fit in, no matter how hard he tried.

Eric sighed, there was a hole in his life that was proving almost impossible to fill and, although he was still only twelve, the pressure of one day becoming King was already starting to weigh down on him. That's why he spent so much time out here; the sea calmed him and made him feel more relaxed than anything. The way the moonlight covered its surface in a silver blanket, shimmering against every wave. Sometimes Eric would stay out here for hours, which sometimes helped and sometimes lead him to overthink things and end up feeling worse than he had before.

Eric silently wished that things could go back to the way they were before. That he, Grimsby and Carlotta could go back to their little house on the edge of the Kingdom and live there as regular people, with no responsibilities, and nobody expecting grand things from them. But he would never say anything about it, for he'd never been one to complain, and he knew how much Grimsby and Carlotta had sacrificed for him. He was grateful, truly grateful for what they had done for him, and how they'd supported him throughout the years.

Grimsby had continued tutoring him, though the lessons were much more easy-going now that Eric's father wasn't around. He had taught the young Prince things that would help him when it came to ruling the Kingdom, and also core subjects such as English, Maths and Science. But Eric no longer saw Grimsby as a tutor; no, Grimsby had become Eric's father. The Prince was able to discuss any problems he had with Grimsby in the knowing mind that he would do his very best to help him, and felt able to confide in the older gentleman. There were however, certain things that only Carlotta could help with. She had been there for him since the beginning, and acted as Eric's mother even before the Queen had died. Eric would go to Grimsby for help and guidance, but he would always turn to Carlotta for comfort. If ever the memory of his parents or the stress of his studies became too much, the young Prince would seek out the woman who had raised him. She would hold him for hours, letting him cry whilst she uttered soothing words to him, and then listen whilst he got whatever was bothering him off his chest. Eric knew that it was childish, but when Carlotta's arms were around him he didn't feel afraid, and, most importantly, he felt safe.

Cuddling up on the sofa with Carlotta was something that he'd grown up with. For the six years they'd lived in the village, the two of them would sit down together almost every night, but now it was a rare treat. For, she knew that he was growing up, and had prepared herself for him not needing her as much. But, in all honesty, Eric still needed her just as much as he had done when he was younger.

He didn't want to grow up; not yet anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

Eric sat silently at breakfast the next morning whilst Grimsby and Carlotta spoke of their plans for the day ahead. The twelve year old wasn't really listening to what to two adults had to say, but every so often their conversation would catch his attention and, as soon as Carlotta mentioned that she was going into town the young Prince's head shot up.

"Can I come" he asked, staring at the maid with pleading eyes?

"Eric you're meant to be studying today" said Grimsby matter-of-factly.

"Nonsense, I'm sure a little outing would do him good" said Carlotta. Eric smiled. Carlotta had always been able to grant him small privileges when others weren't willing to.

"And besides," continued Carlotta, "he been working so hard these past few weeks, I think he's earned a break." Grimsby thought for a moment. It was true that Eric always worked hard in his lessons, and seemed genuinely keen to learn; but Grimsby liked routine. Today he had scheduled a math lesson for Eric, and if he were to go out with Carlotta everything for the next week would have to be pushed back a day. As he considered all the options the older gentlemen caught Eric's eye-line and sighed. There wasn't a person on Earth who could deny those blue eyes. With a smile he nodded his head.

"Alright then" he said. Eric beamed and looked expectantly up at Carlotta.

"We'll leave at eleven 'o' clock," she said. "That gives you plenty of time to get ready." Eric hastily finished his breakfast and ran upstairs, leaving Grimsby and Carlotta smiling after him.

"You know, sometimes he seems so much younger than twelve" stated Carlotta. Grimsby nodded in agreement.

"Yes, and sometimes much older" he added. Carlotta sighed. Because of David's strictness Eric was very mature for his age, and had been all his life, which is part of the reason why he found it difficult to befriend other children. Although shy, the young Prince was much more comfortable around adults than children and some of the things he said made him seem far older than twelve. However, there were moments when he allowed his more childish side to show. And, in all honesty, Carlotta much preferred it that way. She remembered when Eric was about six or seven years old; the two of them would play out in the garden together for hours. She remembered watching him running around, listening to his laughter as he indulged himself in imaginary play, his imagination flourishing to the point where he had believed it to be real, if only for a moment.

But when the three of them had moved back into the palace things changed dramatically. Eric was brought back down to Earth, and promptly realised that, although he was only ten, he was in charge now. The realisation had put an end to his games and, instead, he had committed himself to at least two hours of tutoring six days a week. At first, Grimsby and Carlotta and assured him that it wasn't necessary for him to get straight back to his lessons, but he had insisted that Grimsby taught him everything that he'd missed whilst they'd been living in the village. That was the first sign that he had been forced to grow up too quickly. When Carlotta had asked why he was so keen to get back to lessons his response had left her in tears.

"I want to be a good King" he'd said.

Now, Carlotta knew for a fact that the last thing Eric wanted was to be King, so she knew that he was lying of course. But what upset her most, was that he hadn't been willing to tell her the truth. In the past he would always tell her what was bothering him, and she would hold him whilst he cried, uttering soothing words in his ear. But that day two years ago, had been the turning point for Eric. He had put on a brave face and pretended that everything was alright when really, inside he felt like crying.

Carlotta remembered the times when David had scolded Eric for crying and he'd come running to her for comfort that he knew he would never get from his parents. But now things had changed. Eric seldom came to her for comfort, and even if he did, it was only if he'd hurt himself. In fact, Carlotta hadn't seen him shed a tear in years, besides when he was injured, and even then he kept his tears to a minimum, and that pained Carlotta more than she cared to say.

But, for Eric it was a very different story. As soon as he'd been told that he, Grimsby and Carlotta would be returning to the palace all he'd been able to think about was that someday soon he'd be King. And that scared him. Despite being tutored from such a young age, Eric didn't feel as if he knew a thing about what was expected of him once he turned eighteen. Out of fear of failure he'd begged Grimsby to begin his lessons again, and tried to start acting more grown up. After everything that Grimsby and Carlotta had done for him, the last thing he wanted to do was to let them down. He wanted to make them proud, and to do that he knew that his dependency on Carlotta would have to stop, or at least become slightly less. Letting go of the only person who had always been there for him had been incredibly hard, and every time he so much as thought about it, he would be driven to tears. But he bottled up his emotions until he was in bed at night, then he would cry himself to sleep, certain that he was alone.

He didn't know why he did it, because it was hurting him more than it was doing good. But he was afraid, afraid of letting people down and not living up to his potential. Grimsby had noticed that Eric felt burdened by responsibility, and tried to make his lessons fun, whilst at the same time educational. His guidance and reassurance had meant that he was now a better father to Eric than David had ever been. The two of them had gradually become a lot closer over the past few years and, whereas they were still very close, Eric and Carlotta seemed to drift further apart. The maid had concerned herself in housework to keep herself occupied; but in the back of her mind, all she could think about was that little boy who had once depended so heavily on her... she just wanted him back. And all Eric wanted, was someone to be there for him, for someone to hold him close and tell him that everything would be alright. But he was too shy to ask. Letting go of Carlotta had been his first big mistake, and he wasn't sure how to fix it.

If the two would only open up to one another, they'd realise that they need each other more than ever.

**(A/N: I wasn't sure about this chapter, because it's a very sudden turning point. But, in the movie, Eric seems closest to Grimsby out of the two adults, and I wanted to depict why that might be without changing my story too much.)**


	3. Chapter 3

Ever since the incident when he was three, Carlotta had made sure Eric always ate a substantial amount of breakfast at the start of every day. So once she was happy that he'd had enough, the two of them began the short walk into town. Usually they would've taken a carriage, but the weather was nice enough for them to enjoy a quiet stroll along the road towards the village. It was mostly silent, with Eric enjoying being away from his studies for a short while; but occasionally Carlotta would break the silence, and the two would talk about their plans for the day.

First stop: post office. It was astounding how many invitations Eric got; invitations from various Nobel's of the neighbouring Kingdom's to balls, dinners, parties; all of which Eric would politely decline in a letter. Then they would visit the grocers, the fishmongers, and the bakery and possibly stop at a café of the way back. To any other child of twelve, the day ahead would seem utterly boring; but Eric was just glad to get out of the palace for a while.

But, as much as Eric loved days when he could go out and pretend to be a regular citizen, every time he so much as looked out the window all he could think about was that one day he would rule over all of this. People would place all their trust in him and expect things of him that he knew he had no chance of fulfilling. He would have to accept responsibility for the Kingdom and everyone in it, and he was afraid, more afraid than he'd ever been before. Even his father's unpredictability couldn't compare to the fear of failing and letting down the hundreds of people who lived within the Kingdom.

"Eric?" The young Prince was distracted from his thoughts by Carlotta's concern-filled voice.

"Are you alright" she asked? Eric nodded silently, only just noticing that they were only a few paces away from the village. The maid looked at him in such a way that any mother who was trying to get some sort of explanation from their son would. Eric sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to get away with pretending there was nothing wrong.

"Will people treat me differently when I'm King" he asked, deciding to avoid the question by asking his own?

"Well… I suppose that…" began Carlotta. In all honesty she hadn't a clue how to answer Eric's question. She knew he was extremely nervous about becoming King and didn't want to increase that nervousness by saying yes. But, at the same time, she didn't want to build up false visions of the future by telling him that people would treat him exactly the same way they did now. She knew that once he became King, people would respect him much more, and refer to him, not as 'Eric,' but as 'Sire' or 'Your Majesty'. But telling him that would only make him dread the day he turned eighteen even more.

"Some will, others won't, it really depends on the way you act." The fear on Eric face was now more than obvious and he stopped dead in his tracks.

"How am I meant to act" he asked, turning to face Carlotta?

"I didn't mean it like that," explained Carlotta calmly, "I just meant that people will treat you differently if behave so, otherwise, there's no reason for them to treat you any differently than they do now."

"But Grimsby said I'm supposed to act like a King, and I don't do that now!" Carlotta sighed, and quickly realised that everything she said did nothing but add panic to Eric's already worried state.

"Eric, being King isn't something you need to worry about right now is it? You've got another six years before you take the throne, maybe even more than that" she said in a more reassuring tone. Then she noticed something that caught her completely by surprise, and that was the quickening of Eric's breath. In that instant she didn't know how to act; Eric had be prone to panic attacks when he was much younger but it had been years since she'd had to help him through one.

"Eric darling it's alright" she said, extending a hand and placing it on the twelve years olds shoulder. She could feel his frame shaking and his blue eyes were wide with fear.

"No it's not," he said, his voice shaking almost as much as he was, "I don't want to be King." This was ridiculous. It had been years since he'd openly shown weakness like this and he hated the fact that he couldn't control his panic attacks. It was childish; how as he ever going to be King if this kept happening? But nothing he did ever helped in this situation and usually he would break down in tears until he was too exhausted to think about anything but going to sleep. But out here, in public, with a group of people now watching him, he didn't know what to do. His ears were deaf to Carlotta's words as he backed off, away from the eyes of those around him. Backing off… the boat, his father, drowning… he remembered the water, the cold, the way it filled his lungs, choking him… he couldn't breathe. Whipping round Eric spied a small, empty alleyway and, ignoring the heaving of his lungs and the pounding of his head, he ran.

"Eric wait" called Carlotta, hurrying after him! But Eric was much quicker and certainly more nimble, and was out of sight by the time she reached the village centre. She was so sure that Eric didn't need her anymore, but looking at it now it didn't seem as if anything had changed. She hated herself for being so blind, for leaving Eric when he obviously wasn't ready to do this on his own.

* * *

><p>Eric didn't know where he was going but, all things considered, he really didn't care. Nothing was fair and he hated it; hated life and everything about it. The first four years of his life had meant nothing but constant misery, and for two years after that he'd been desperately trying to get over it. Now that feeling had returned with full force, and showed no chance of leaving. There had been four years in his life when Eric would say he was truly happy and they were over and he'd never be happy again and… Eric froze.<p>

In front of him was a cottage, the windows were smashed, the door broken and the garden overgrown, but nothing could ever disguise it. The only place that had provided him with true happiness, although severely damaged by time and elements, stood in front of him. With trembling hands, Eric pushed the gate open and carefully picked a path through the long grass and overgrown shrubbery. He hadn't intended to come here, but not that he was, the twelve year old couldn't help but go inside. The entire house was a mess, mud and leaves covered the floor and cobwebs the ceiling. The wallpaper was grey and peeling and the stone fireplace had cracked and chipped in several places. Although his breathing was still quick, it was mainly just an effect of running now, and just being in this house made Eric feel a lot calmer, but, at the same time, brought tears to his eyes. He remembered being here with Grimsby and Carlotta when there was never an item out of place. It always felt warm, the sort of place that any family would want and love. But it was long forgotten, empty, faded into the shadows of the past. Taking a few steps into his old house, Eric began to think of days gone by. He could almost hear Carlotta's motherly tone telling him to take his boots off before her came any further. He could picture each piece of furniture and where it had once been, and the memories surrounding them. Cuddling up in front of the fire with Carlotta; sitting at the table as Grimsby read him old books and told him tales of his own childhood. It all seemed such a long time ago now, when, in actual fact, it had only been a few years.

But all his thoughts were brought to an abrupt stop when he noticed a slight movement in the corner of the room. Eric stopped his train of thought and stood perfectly still, unsure as to what exactly was huddled in the corner of the room. He didn't know whether to run or scream, but what happened next made it impossible for him to so either.

"Who's there" called a gravelly voice?


	4. Chapter 4

Eric tried to make his breathing as shallow as possible, praying to whatever deity was up there that he hadn't yet been seen.

"Who's there" called the voice again? In the knowing mind that it was too late to just leave, Eric gathered all the courage he could, let out a shaky breath and replied, remembering everything that Grimsby had taught him about talking to strangers.

"I-I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't... know anyone lived here."

"Nobody_ does_." Whoever was in the corner, seemed to adjust themselves before rising to their feet, their face still but a shadow.

"What brought you back here then?" Eric was startled by the question, but soon realised that there wasn't a person in the Kingdom who didn't know his story. Whoever this man was, was probably around when Eric was younger and lived under his parent's reign. Although, even with that in mind, Eric didn't feel comfortable opening up to someone he'd never met.

"Who are you" he asked? Although scared, Eric had always been curious, which is perhaps the only reason why he hadn't yet left the cottage. The man chuckled lightly and stepped out of the shadows.

"My name's Stephan" he said, an easy smile on his ageing face. Eric took a moment to take in the man's appearance. The first thing that struck him was the fact that Stephan obviously wasn't a wealthy man. He wore gloves that had worn away at the fingers and a murky green coat that hung off his thin frame. His brown trousers were damp at the bottom and covered in mud; it was clearly the same outfit he'd been wearing for months, maybe even years. His face was beginning to wrinkle and his flaxen hair and beard stuck out at all angles around his pale face.

"I know I look a state," continued Stephan, smirking slightly. Eric was suddenly brought back to his senses and looked quickly up at the man.

"No," he said hastily, "I didn't mean… I… you don't…" he trailed off as he was interrupted by Stephan's sudden outburst of laughter.

"Don't look so afraid lad, I won't bite" he said. The friendly smile on Stephan's face caused Eric to relax considerably and he looked around the draughty room.

"Do_ you_ live here now" he asked, realising for the first time that this cottage was in no fit state to accommodate anyone? Stephan took a few steps forward, and picked brown sac off the table.

"I wouldn't say I lived here," he answered. "In fact, I don't live anywhere, just stay in the places I can until I can find somewhere new, don't like to stay in the same place for too long."

"Why not" asked Eric? Stephan flicked his gaze back to the young Prince, amazed at how a boy who'd been through so much could be so full of life and curiosity. He shrugged.

"Not sure," he replied, "just gets boring I guess. Why stay in one place when you can go anywhere you want?" Eric thought about that for a moment, about moving around constantly, exploring new places whenever you felt like it. Could he do that? Was he free to go anywhere he wanted?

"Anyway, you never answered my question," said Stephan, lowering his head and peering down at Eric. "Why did you come back?" There was something about Stephan; something about the way he looked upon Eric that made the young Prince feel as though he could tell him anything, and he did.

"I don't know," he replied truthfully. "I was just running and not really thinking about it." Stephan nodded, as though he understood completely.

"Why were you running?"

Eric hung his head and shuffled his feet nervously. "I was scared" he admitted, refusing to look up and meet the steady gaze of the man in front of him. As soon as he's said it, Eric regretted opening his mouth at all. His fear of failure was something that not even Grimsby or Carlotta knew about, so why he was now sharing his innermost emotions with a complete stranger was beyond him. To his surprise, Stephan stepped forward and placed a hand on Eric's shoulder. Although Eric knew him to be nice enough, the contact still made his heart beat faster and his eyes grow wider.

"There's nothing wrong with that lad" he said. Eric looked up, noting for the first time the scars that covered his face and the slow movements, suggesting that he was in pain. Stephan moved his hand away from Eric's shoulder and hobbled back to the corner of the room, where he knelt down. Eric craned his neck to see what he was doing, and moments later, Stephan rose to his feet again, holding what looked to be nothing more than a piece of old rope. At first Eric was confused, but then he saw what was on the end of it, and gasped quietly. A slim dog walked beside its owner, its paws upon the wooden floor not making a sound.

"This is Bella" said Stephan, stopping just in front of Eric. The bitch nuzzled Eric's hand, causing the Prince to jump slightly.

"It's alright," reassured Stephan, "she won't hurt you, couldn't if she tried." Felling a little more relaxed, Eric reached down and ran his fingers through the mass of greying white hair that covered the animal from head to toe. He soon found himself smiling, as Bella began to lightly lick his hands and wrists.

"She's likes you," observed Stephan, as Eric stood up to full height, smile still in place. "She usually hides away from strangers." Just then, Bella began tugging on the rope, pulling Stephan towards the open door. He chuckled lightly.

"Better go I suppose," he said, "she'll be getting hungry."

"Don't you have any food for her" asked Eric, following Stephan out of the cottage?

"I don't even have any food for myself lad," he replied. "We go into town every day and pick up what we can, spare change, leftovers, it's not the best way of life but we get by." Eric seemed shocked by his answer, and suddenly felt guilty about his status. He knew that their kingdom wasn't the wealthiest in Denmark, but he'd never been told that there were people who had no money at all! He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few coins that Carlotta had given him as spending money for today.

As he, Stephan and Bella walked towards the town, he held out the coins to his new friend; motioning without words for him to take it. Stephan smiled, but made no attempt to take what was being offered to him.

"Has anyone ever told you how kind you are," he asked? "Thank you for the thought, but I can't take it."

"Why not," asked Eric, "you could get something to eat."

"It's yours, replied Stephan, "and I won't take money off a child, you keep it." Eric frowned, wanting to help but not knowing how. Suddenly Stephan stopped, and sat himself down on a bench. Only just noticing that they were now in the middle of town, an idea sprung to Eric's mind.

"Wait here" he said, before rushing off through the crowds. Stephan chuckled and shook his head fondly; he really was beginning to like this boy.

He sat motionlessly in the middle of town, an empty can on the bench beside him and Bella laying on the cobbles at his feet. He'd been homeless for almost ten years now, and each day seemed harder than the last. At fifty five he knew he didn't have long left, the constant complaints from his ageing body told him that. He would end the day with aching limbs, weak with hunger. Some days he would be beaten by the guards, reminding him that he wasn't wanted here. Today had been nothing short of a miracle, the arrival of Eric and the way he'd spoken had reminded Stephan that there was good in the world and that, despite what he thought, there were people who cared about him.


	5. Chapter 5

**(A/N: Sorry for the atrociously long period of time since my last update, but I just haven't had the time to write, and the next few months are going to be much the same. Therefore updates are going to be coming far less often than I'd like them to, though I assure you that this story/series is far from completion and will be finished no matter what. Thank you for your patience.)**

About fifteen minutes passed before Eric re-emerged from the crowd, carrying what looked to be a small brown paper bag. Stephan watched as the boy expertly made his way through the thick crowd of late morning shoppers, ducking under crates and jumping out the way of carts as if it were an everyday occurrence for him. There were moments were Stephan felt frightened to watch, as Eric came dangerously close to being knocked down and trampled by the crowd. He wasn't tall for his age, quite the opposite in fact; Eric stood about three inches shorter than other boys his age, his agility making him perfect for this particular task as he went unseen by most of those around him. But the fact that he was unseen meant that most people didn't even realise how close they were to knocking him over.

Another thing Stephan noticed as he watched the young Prince dance his way through the hustle and bustle of the town centre, was just how well he fitted in, and how comfortable he looked as being able to go about his business without being fussed. The old man found himself smiling, thinking back to when Eric had actually lived as one of the villagers for six years. Of course, they hadn't known each other back then, but Stephan remembered seeing him day after day, watching him grow from this very bench, as he collected coins. It all seemed so long ago now, for the boy he saw now was much more mature, and almost seemed more like an adult than a child.

His thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt when Eric stopped in front of him, his arm outstretched so that the paper bag was just above the old man's lap. Stephan merely stared at the young Prince in puzzlement for a moment, and was about to voice his scepticism when the sweet smell of the bakery invaded his nostrils. With his rough, weathered hand trembling, he reached out and took the bag from Eric, never taking his eyes away from the boys own sky blue ones.

"If the money's mine then I get to decide what I spend it on" said Eric, watching as Stephan carefully unrolled the top of the bag so as to view its contents. Inside was a selection of breads and pastries from the bakery, ten all together. Stephan could do nothing but stare, though every instinct was screaming at him to eat the whole lot immediately and his hunger was becoming painfully obvious as his stomach gave a desperate growl. But ever so slowly, he moved his eyes from Eric to the bag and back again.

"Why are you helping me," he asked, "we've barely known each other an hour."

"Because I was really poorly when I was hungry, and I don't want you to feel the same" replied Eric simply. The response brought tears to Stephan's eyes, as he recalled the events of the weeks leading up to the Prince's fourth birthday. The fact that Eric was doing this simply to prevent the same from happening to him all but made the pauper's heart melt.

"Thank you" he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Though a mere thank you wasn't nearly enough, Stephan honestly didn't know what else to say. No one had ever done anything like this for him before. Eric smiled, showing his dimples, and watched as Stephan took a delicate bite of a custard pastry, savouring every morsel as he closed his eyes in indulgence. At their feet, Bella whined and nudged Eric's leg with her head. The Prince looked sadly down at the bitch and immediately felt bad about not leaving any money to get her anything.

"Eric!"

Both Eric and Stephan turned round as a voice tore through the chatter of the crowds. Eric recognised the voice immediately and was suddenly overcome by a wave of guilt at having run off.

Carlotta let out a relieved sort of sob when she spotted Eric in the town centre, and rushed towards him as quickly as her plump frame would allow. She had been searching the Kingdom for almost an hour now, her fear and anxiety increasing every minute that passed as her efforts began to seem fruitless.

"Oh, darling I've been looking everywhere for you" she gasped, wrapping her arms around the twelve year olds shoulders. Eric froze for a second as he remembered why he had run off in the first place. He'd been scared, panicked, and openly shown this to the woman who he had been trying to detach himself from, for no reason other than to prove to himself that he wasn't as weak as he had been when he was younger. After all, King's didn't cry. But the familiarity of Carlotta's arms around him reminded Eric of just how much he needed her, and the mere thought that he would one day be without her brought tears to his eyes. Did he care about what people thought of him? Yes. Would people think less of him if he showed weakness? Yes. But suddenly none of that seemed to matter, and Eric found himself realising that it didn't really matter what people thought of him. He wanted to be a good King, but worrying about it wasn't going to help, and Carlotta was the only person he knew who could ease away every one of his fears, if only for a while. He wasn't going to give her up just yet.

Wrapping his arms around the maid, he relaxed and began to realise just how much worry he must have caused her.

"I'm sorry" he said tearfully. Carlotta squeezed him tighter before pulling back and cupping his face in her hands.

"You're not hurt are you" she asked? Eric just shook his head, noticing the worry that had etched its way into Carlotta's face.

"I'm fine," he said, "Carlotta I'm sorry for running off."

"Don't be darling, I know exactly why you did."

"You do" asked Eric, perplexed?

"Yes, and I'm so sorry for not being there, I just assumed that…" Carlotta sighed and hung her head for a moment, before looking back to Eric's wide blue eyes. "It doesn't matter," she continued, "but I need you to know that I'm always here for you Eric." Eric nodded again and threw his arms around the woman who had raised him.

Carlotta gladly returned the embrace, but suddenly noticed the man with whom Eric had been standing prior to her arrival. As soon as she had noticed his presence, she also noticed the way in which he was staring at Eric and every one of her instincts screamed 'danger!' She knew paupers to be the sort of people who would do anything for money, and her immediate thought, judging by the bag of food on his lap, was that he had been hassling the young boy in her arms.

If Eric was in any sort of danger then she was going to protect him in any way she could, and right now that meant getting him away from here, now.


End file.
